“Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. ‘You have every right to be angry with me. Get a license—just an idea of mine. And for me there is only one treasure-house. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. “I am happy.
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